Like the Tin Man

A former model citizen, I no longer posse the heart

To pump these tired limbs, now just rusting away in the pool of fools

From all these tears but, not those of sadness, or of joy but, because of Joy

She left for good this time, I can only hope
 
I was a golden Knight, in high polished armor

Now just a  shell rusting away 

A man with golden locks is, now simply bald

The shinning funnel, that onced filled me up it is now flipped

It's a rusty, oily funnel placed upon my head, for a hat

All our memories flushing out of, the tip top bottom end of it

Steaming and smoking, and circling about my head

No Axe, do I hold in my right hand, for no wheel do I have for to grind

In my left hand hold I, the oil can now emptied it of it's last drop

Soon I will no longer be able to twist and shout or even speak

For the magistrates is lurking about

Waiting to turn me out, and grind me up

Least by some chance I be saved, from the pending scrap heap

By some fair maid, O' tender lady, please splash me with some thirty weight ten 

On these old rusted joints spread some warm lube

Let lose this here Knight; let's, let the night lose

Let me stay, sing, and dance about, here with you again

Let me love once more, least that old witch water me down for sure

A thought by Sinbad the Sailor Man